


The Unspeakable Unit

by BlueLight333



Category: Wolfenstein: The New Order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLight333/pseuds/BlueLight333





	The Unspeakable Unit

“ROMMEL!”

The sharp bark uttered through the narrow food slot of the cell door jerked Walter to his feet.

“Aye.” He uttered half enthusiastically, slowly remembering through the haze of morning where he was.

“OUT!” Yelled the voice unlocking the door. The voice of course belonged to the ever-cheerful watchman; Rudolf, reassembling a gorilla more than a man with his 7 feet of height and 3 men’s worth of width any man would find him a sight to fear. Walter however found him annoying.

“I bet you say that to all the…” Said Walter, trailing off mid sentence to look the gorilla up and down.

“Guys” He finished with a smirk, the gorilla responded by planting a size 12 boot into his abdomen.

 _Ah, my morning coffee._ Thought Walter as he doubled over coughing. Rudolf grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and began dragging him down the hallway.

After 4 months of residing within the sparkling jewel of Germany, the _Adler_ disciplinary camp, Water knew every single turn and door, by the looks of things he was being dragged to see the commandant.

The large man shaped beast that had been gently guiding him through the halls stopped and shoved him against the wall beside the office door. Rudolf took a second to straighten up his tunic and even his headdress before knocking.

“Enter” said a gentle voice from within.

Rudolf opened the door, straightened his posture and stood to attention, giving the full Hitler salute to the sitting commandant.

“HEIL HITLER!” Shouted the beast, the commandant flinched at the volume and cringed, visibly uncomfortable.

“Christ Rudolf its 7 on a Monday! Take it down a notch will you!?” The officer snapped back, Rudolf meekly lowered his arm and led Walter inside, bowing his head on his way out.

Walter took a minute to analyze the office once again. Still the same swastika spangled banner, still the same bust of Hitler standing proudly on the officer’s desk, the photo of his kids on some beach, the chairs opposing his desk still scratched up from nervous inmates, the carpets still stained with blood after some… gentle persuasion to confess.

The commandant himself was a pathetic man in appearance. His hair no more than a mere gray memory like gun smoke on a windy day, his features riddled with liver spots and wrinkles, teeth that were no doubt not his own, a frame that would struggle to hold a candle and a uniform covered in medals he could’ve never possibly earned.

Walter shifted in his seat, fiddling with his handcuffs, more out of boredom than anxiety.

“So, Captain Rommel.” Said the commandant finally after closing a rather heavy file.

“Unless your records are 6 months out of date that is no longer my title.” Replied Walter with a heavy sigh.

“Alright, former captain Rommel if you wish to be semantic about it, coffee?” Asked the commandant lifting his frail body from his overstuffed armchair towards the coffee pot.

“Look, can we hurry this useless interrogation along? I gotta get back to worshipping this soap carving I made of the great leader-.” Said Walter with a sarcastic tone, but was promptly cut off by the commandant slamming his hand on the walnut desk.

“Do not discuss the leader in that tone.” Said the old man with a scarily even tone. He sat back down and lifted the file again.

“You know Mr. Rommel, looking at your record it’s almost sad to see it wasted here. Captain of the Waffen SS, served on all 3 fronts, expertise in small unit tactics, 3 times nominated for the iron cross 1st class, twice awarded for the iron cross second class, extremely loyal to the party, great family record-.” The commandant could’ve surely continued further but Walter cut him off with a loud groan.

“Yeah yeah yeah, we all make mistakes, can we cut to the part I don’t regret?” Said Walter, fully aware how much such a tone would piss off the commandant.

“But… 6 months ago… striking a superior officer, drunk and disorderly conduct, insubordination, absences without leave. Its like reading a deep dark nightmare! What happened to you?” Asked the commandant with a clearly ironic tone of concern.

“We’ve been over this Herr commandant, why are you dragging me in here to give you the same answers?” Asked Walter, he knew that nobody would interrupt his delightful daily schedule of starvation and hard labour for a mere chat.

“Well, former captain Rommel, we are going over your past because I have some great news.” Said the commandant finally shoving the file into a box under his desk, withdrawing a single sheet of paper from another shelf.

“You’re now allowing prisoners to attend their favourite pubs? Because if so I know this great one just outside Berl-.” Walter was cut off by the commandant shoving the paper into his hands.

“Read it, out loud.” The officer’s tone was authoritative now, he had clearly grown tired of Walter’s quips.

Water sighed, but reluctantly began reading.

“Orders. Address to: Adler Disciplinary Facility, read immediately.” Said Walter, looking up at the officer with boredom in his eyes, the officer nodded at him to keep reading.

“Former Captain of the SS Walter Rommel is to be immediately transported to and placed under the direct command of Abwehr. Order is not to be discussed further with high command, this order is non- negotiable and any attempts at insubordination will result in the immediate disciplinary action of the Gestapo against guilty parties.” Walter finished reading the paper and lowered it with confusion.

“What the hell does the intelligence agency want with me?” Asked Walter, the commandant laughed.

“Don’t know and I don’t have to, all I gotta care about is shoving you onto a plane by 3 o’clock, and sending you off, and then all I have to do is not care about some other poor sod dealing with your insufferable sense of humour and escape attempts.” Said the commandant, sounding like he was describing a festive dinner rather than a prisoner transfer.

Walter smirked.

“Oh, and don’t get any ideas, you’ll be flying with Rudolf.” Said the commandant. Soon as his name was uttered the door slammed open and…

“HEIL HITLER!” Shouted Rudolf at the top of his oversized lungs, nearly rupturing his tunic.

“Good God man! Piss off before I have a heart attack!” Screamed the commandant in a remarkably shrill voice. The ape bowed shamefully and once more ducked out of the doorway, doing his best to close the door before he realized he broke it.

“Man, I feel more secured already.” Said Walter with a chuckle.

“Just… get out of my office.” Sighed the old man, the exasperation in his voice extremely apparent.

 

-

 

The scene of Walter’s departure was a sight to behold, his chains rattled as they dragged across the landing tarmac, the footsteps of the gorilla behind him thundered over even the chants of the other prisoners. Some wished him well, some were begging him to tell their families they were ok, some wished him to die a painful death, some claimed to want to fuck his mother.

In short, humanity.

The plane was a large beast made to carry paratroopers to their drop points, with its jet engines and missiles draped over its ancient carcass it truly was a testament both to the technological advancement of the Reich and its struggling economy.  Walter stopped suddenly bumping into Rudolf.

“Sorry.” Said Walter, fiddling with his cuffs nervously, Rudolf grunted.

Aboard the plane Walter and Rudolf sat across from each other, Walter’s cuffs were removed for the sake of him being able to operate his parachute in case of emergency but Rudolf kept a tight grip on his rifle to compensate.

“Yenno, Rudy.” Said Walter calmly.

“You will address me as Herr Gefreiter.” Said Rudolf with a very low tone.

“Alright, no need to get snippy, I am a combat veteran yenno, I could tell you something important about your safety…. If let’s say the plane gets shot down….” Said Walter trailing off and casually picking his nails.

“What do I need to know?” Asked Rudolf, his interest clearly peaked

“Lean in, the pilot can’t know.” Said Walter leaning forward, his harness pressing against his shoulders.

Rudolf, predictably, moved his rifle to give himself some room and leaned in.

 _Perfect_ thought Walter.

Quick as a flash he pulled the small knife he stole from Rudolf during the small bump on the tarmac. Immediately he planted the 3 inches of cold steel directly into the large man’s neck, gouging out his jugular arteries. Walter quickly stabbed two more times for safety, then slit the man’s windpipe. Standing up he grabbed Rudolf’s rifle and rushed to the pilot’s cabin.

Opening the door, he cocked the rifle to make his presence known.

“Gentlemen, you will find that an immediate change of course would be entirely better for the safety of your skulls.” Said Walter pressing the rifle against the temple of the main pilot.

“Look, look calm down alright? There’s no need for any of this!” Said the co-pilot as the main pilot began sobbing…. And pissed his pants.

“We don’t have control over this plane OK? We’re just here for looks!” Shouted the lead pilot in between heavy sobs.

“Bullshit.” Said Walter pressing the gun harder to the pilot’s temple.

“I have a family!” Screamed the hysterical man.

“Shut the fuck up.” Said Walter with an annoyed tone.

“He’s not fucking with you! We really don’t! Look! Henry! Take your hands off the controls, show him!”

Both the men lifted their palms, the joysticks continued to gently turn and correct themselves in unison.

“Well in that case I have no need for you.” Said Walter calmly bracing the rifle against his shoulder.

“Wait! Wait! You shoot us you depressurise the cabin! And you still need us to check in on the radio!” Said the still coherent co-pilot.

“What’s your call sign?” Asked Walter, realizing that he made a good point.

“Raven 2” Sobbed the main pilot, desperately trying to make himself useful. The co-pilot nodded violently.

“Thank you.” Said Walter, promptly sticking both the men with the bayonet attachment.

He dragged them out of their harnesses and sitting down in the main pilot’s seat. Looking out of the window he saw that the plane was coming in for a landing.

“What’s your call sign? Over.” Cracked the radio. Walter picked up the headset and responded.

“Raven 2, say again, Raven 2 coming in for landing, am I clear?” Asked Walter, doing his best to match his voice to the dead pilot’s

“You are clear, standby.” Said the voice, a couple of switched flipped themselves and the flaps engaged, Walter eyed the big red button at the top of the joystick.

“Ah, don’t need a pilot’s licence to know what that does.” Smiled Walter, finally formulating a plan.

As the plane descended he grabbed dearly departed Rudolf’s ammo belt and went back to the pilot’s chair.

Soon as the plane finished taxiing he found that he was facing a control tower. Smiling like a kid on Christmas he pressed the big red button.

The plane shuddered as 4 missiles left their housing under the wings and flew directly forward. The tower went up in a spectacular mushroom cloud. The ground crew scrambled and ran all over the place, exactly as he needed them to do. He ran over to the rear bay door but before he opened he saw something shiny sticking out of the pilot’s pocket.

Pulling it out he saw a metal flask.

“Tut tut! Never fly drunk! That shit will kill you!” He said to the corpse, downing the schnapps in it in a single gulp.

“Alright, lets fucking roll!” Yelled Walter, slamming the bay door release with his fist.

Immediately he was greeted with a small squad of security, upon seeing him they scrambled to brace their weapons. However, Walter had already pulled the trigger on his rifle, sending them off in one short burst of automatic fire.

He ran down the ramp, making his way for the nearby woods, keeping in mind where everyone else was on the tarmac, but before he reached the treeline he noticed everyone had stopped running and was simply standing, staring at the sky.

He himself stopped and looked up, nothing there but open blue sky.

He shot one of the stationary men…. Nothing, the rest didn’t even flinch.

Out of curiosity he cautiously approached one and checked his pulse… Again, nothing.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Yelled Walter as loud as he could.

He remembered the reanimated corpses the SS started using for training in the last year of his service, concentration camp victims stuffed with machinery.

This was all a show.

“Well done Herr Rommel!” Laughed a voice from behind the crowd. It was a small man in a suit and a fedora, casually pacing in between the corpses, both the ones Walter shot and the ones that the Nazis stuffed with circuits.

“Why all this? Why the Show? Why don’t I just shoot you?” Asked Walter lifting the rifle to be face level with the strange man. He didn’t flinch.

“Because if you do anything short of be completely obedient to my every whim your dear brother will soon be anther piece of target practice.

Walter froze, how could he know?

“I am an intelligence offer you know, knowing everything is sort of the job description.” Said the agent, Walter lowered the gun

 

“So, what now?” Asked Walter.

“Now, you drop the gun, shut your face, we walk and I talk.” Replied the man.


End file.
